Yesterday, I was thinking about the lecture that Professor Weathers gave in our Website Development class. He gave us a brief summary of the progress that we have made as a (human) race in terms of communication and technology—from writing to the telegraph to computers and the internet. It was interesting to note that most of us couldn’t remember a time without computers. We belong to a generation that can’t imagine what it would be like without cell phones or iPods. The changes we’ve seen in technology have come naturally (we use Macbooks and Blackberry’s almost intuitively) and inconspicuously. Perhaps because of our closeness to such changes, the effect of these technologies on our lives is nearly imperceptible to us.
One major example is the internet. I think especially as college students, we have an almost unhealthy dependence on our ability to go online. We feel lost if our connection goes down, and annoyed if our connection is slow. We rely on the internet to keep us connected—through email, AIM, Facebook, Skype—with our friends and families. And we develop addictions to YouTube.
Speaking of which, I’ve noticed that my dad is acquiring a slight addiction. He doesn’t really have a lot of free time, and he still spends a good deal of what little time he has playing tennis, watching ESPN basketball highlights, hanging out with my mom, or taking a nap. Browsing around on YouTube, however, has also become one of his relaxation habits, though not in an unhealthy way. In fact, it’s become something that he and I can share and enjoy together.
I’ve discovered, for instance, that I learn a lot about my dad’s interests just by watching and listening to what he watches on YouTube. One of his favorite pastimes is searching for techniques and tips for Judo and Jujitsu, or seeing great moves in the latest Mixed Martial Arts fights. From my usual spot on the couch I can often hear the songs of “Phantom of the Opera,” “Les Miserables,” or “Miss Saigon” emanating from my dad’s laptop in the kitchen. He especially likes Lea Salonga. He uses YouTube to search for songs that bring back nostalgic memories—like The Eagles, Strawberry Alarm Clock, The Supremes, or the Bee Gees. And he tries to keep up with what’s popular in today’s pop music; I think it makes him feel young.
We’ll often be sitting together in a restaurant chatting when my dad cocks his head to one side and comments, “Wait, isn’t this Maroon 5?” Or we’ll listen to the radio in the car, and he’ll be bobbing his head. Then he turns to me and suddenly says, “I like this song by Ne-yo; he’s got a nice, smooth voice. [continuing to bob] The song’s got a nice beat.” To be honest, I’m not quite sure how I feel about my dad listening to Rihanna and Jordin Sparks, but it’s cute nonetheless. And I’ll admit that I’m proud of him for appreciating Utada Hikaru. It just adds to his “coolness.”
On another, completely unrelated note, I wanted to recount a scene today that leaves me in fits of hysterical giggles every time I think about. Our congregation, I think, is very well trained. Not unthinking, per se, but well trained. We stand when we’re asked to stand, we sit when we’re allowed to sit, we read when we’re told to read. Many of us have grown up in the church, or have been a member for many, many years, so we’re well-versed in the protocols and procedures in the church, including the unspoken ones. Today was such a hilarious example of that.
I wrote earlier of little Ian, who was just adopted from China by a wonderful couple from our church. Today was his baby dedication—our pastor, along with the rest of the congregation, prays and dedicates his life to the Lord, asking God to work out the Gospel of Salvation in Ian’s life and bring him into the family of Christ. Everything was going smoothly. We stood, we closed our eyes and bowed our heads, little Ian wasn’t fidgety or ill-behaved. But during the prayer, our pastor began to invoke the trinity, saying, “in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit…”
For our congregation, that was our cue that the prayer was drawing to a close, so the entire sanctuary automatically responded, “Amen.” We were deceived, however, and the pastor continued on with his prayer, much to the surprise and amusement of all of us laymen in the congregation. By the time our pastor got to the end of his prayer, many of us were trying too hard to stifle our laughter—we could barely eke out a muffled chorus of amen's The ironic thing was that he really did end his prayer with “in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, we pray. Amen.”
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